A Dance For You
by BananaLollipop7
Summary: The Exile dances, Atton goes all mushy...


"/What else do you want?\"

The Exile pulled the tie out of her hair, shaking it loose. "I was sent here to dance," she replied serenely, apparently no longer concerned about the ridiculously skimpy outfit, and letting the grey cloak fall from her shoulders.

If Atton didn't know better, he would have said Vogga's eyes bulged even more as she very deliberately and very slowly bent to pick up the cloak, turn and throw it to Mira with a flick of her wrist. But if the Hutt's eyes had bulged any more, they would have come right out of his head.

And Solana started to dance. And Atton felt his jaw drop, his eyes pop and his eyebrows disappear into his hairline. She was beautiful. Her body swayed, her hips swung... Her skin was so soft and smooth and deliciously exposed for the scoundrel's suddenly hungry eyes.

He had seen dancers before, some better and some not, but there was something that transcended her dance. It was not the skimpy outfit that showed rather than concealed- though that _was_ a benefit- it was not the seductive, tantalising gestures, nor the way the dim lights only hinted at the shape of her thighs as opposed to revealing them completely... No, it was something else altogether.

But Atton couldn't place it. And he didn't care. Her arms caught his attention- how had he not noticed how perfectly shaped they were, how supple and well rounded her muscles were? His gaze moved slowly to her collarbone, following the contours easily, smoothly. He found himself imaging how soft she undoubtedly was, how it would feel to press his lips to her collarbone and make a trail of kisses up her neck to her lips...

But no. No. This was not the time for those thoughts. He was aware his mouth was still open and shut it resolutely. Dropping his gaze, the scoundrel tried to control his expression.

But her toes traced a line through his field of vision and he found his ravenous eyes slipping up her leg, appreciating the curve of her calf muscle, the smooth transition to her thigh. The crimson silk of her outfit suddenly concealed the leg Atton was staring at and he almost groaned in exquisite agony.

Her stomach was the next object of his undivided attention. She was just coming out of a backbend, her body rippling, and replying shivers chased down Atton's spine.

He didn't leer at her breasts that strained against the bra, though he did pause to appreciate her cleavage for a brief moment.

He couldn't deny the hunger in him, the hunger that went beyond simple lust. Passion burned hotter than fire, hotter than a lightsabre; need and desire flamed through his veins and his heart pumped out a jagged, disjointed rhythm. How he wished the Exile saw him the way he saw her.

He was in love with her. He would kill for her, he would die for her... He would do anything for her.

His eyes, lingering on her shoulders, moved of their own accord.

He knew what he wanted to look at most, what his eyes were actually starving for more than her thighs, her stomach or her breasts, and he finally let his gaze settle on her face. She wasn't looking at him which allowed for a few uninterrupted moments to stare at her face.

Her beauty was a classic beauty, though he could tell she didn't see it in herself; her skin was somehow gently luminous, and behind her long black lashes he knew blue eyes sparkled, sparkled with determination, compassion and on occasion, anger.

Blue eyes that had suddenly locked onto his.

For a moment, just a moment, her eyes sparkled with... lust? It was easy to imagine, and sent a surge of joy coursing through him, so he imagined. He imagined kissing her, and her kissing him back; his hands at her back, pulling her closer and her arms round his neck, pulling _him_ closer... It was easy to imagine, _too _easy to imagine, in that moment.

Amusement flashed through her eyes, and Atton realised his mouth was open again. She spun, tearing her gaze from his, her silver hair obscuring her face as she faced the Hutt.

Then Atton realised why her dance was so different. Why the grace of her movements captivated him, demanded his attention more fully than any other dancer ever had or ever would. Her every movement was made as though she was fighting. The control she exercised in the dance was not so different from the control she exercised in combat, the focus. A lightsabre in her hand would not look out of place, even though she wore a bikini and nothing more.

The outfit exposed a good deal of her flesh, but it wasn't enough. Atton wanted her, _all_ of her, and in that moment when she had locked his gaze, it was almost as though she had said she wanted him too.

No, no. Stupid. Solana was a Jedi, through and through, she would never have those thoughts, those feelings about him. He could not fall into the trap of hoping, that would break him. To hope would kill him more surely than any rejection, since he knew he would never- could never- tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

He would always be hers, but she would never know it. And she would always be beyond his reach. She deserved better than _him_.

"You're drooling Atton,"

"Huh?" Atton turned to stare at Mira, having completely forgotten she was there.

"I said, you're drooling,"

Atton quickly wiped his face on the back of his hand, glaring at Mira when he realised she had been winding him up. The bounty hunter chuckled, then took the Exile's cloak back to her, and Atton realised with dismay he had missed the end of her dance.

"/... often makes my master tired,\" the Twi'lek who had hired the Exile to dance was apologising as she concealed herself with the cloak again, but Atton wasn't listening. He was listening to the sound of his own heart stuttering to a halt and silencing forever.

Beside him, a kath hound whined softly. He glanced down at the canine.

"Tell me about it mate,"

* * *

N.B. It's been a while since I played Kotor II so I forgot names, but I think the Hutt on Nar Shaddaa was called Vogga, right?? And I have no idea what the Twi'lek was called... But skipping to the point I was going to make: Not sure about Atton here. It's the first time I tried writing from his perspective and I'm not convinced I got it right. I think I ended up focusing too much on lust, and not enough on love which was my initial thoughts when I scribbled this down. Constructive critisism always welcome and muchly needed, please!

Oh yeah, and though it's pretty much irrelevent: I don't own any of the characters, they're all copyright Lucas Arts... etc, etc, etc... Except for my version of the Exile (Solana) who says one line and dances, so I'm not convinced that counts...


End file.
